Peace
by Skitter Stories
Summary: At the night before Christmas, Connor received a gift that he never expected to receive from him.


**Hey guys, advance Merry Christmas to you all. I'll just have to say, it is been wonderful that it's already a year before I joined this site. Anyways, for my two other stories, I decided I should take a break as well until something is up. This is a short Christmas fic starring our favorite Ratohnhake:ton and his rival Charles Lee. Until then, enjoy this short.**

 **Btw I haven't played AC3 yet, but I really like the game. Sorry for the mistakes and intakes.**

A year ending was the best time for people to believe and to inspire other people, even in the revolution America. Soldiers stopped the fight as well as the patriots who decided to take a week or two to go home or to rest from the wreckage of the war that has brought.

Looks like people gave war a rest at all. Sensing that no gunshots, no bodies scattered around the road or in the forests for the wolves to feast for. No British military uniform or even armies under the command of Washington. Absolutely, not even a thing or a two was even present in a quiet week leading to Christmas or year end, from the others called.

Peace is at its finest when the month hits December, or even as the winter falls through, snow by snow. It is described as white and pure, such beauty of the winter is the beauty of peace that was experienced here. No war or revolution.

Except for two groups.

The Templars, who were at nothing to stop to gain the control but also to protect the diplomacy of every people as possible? The Master, Haytham Kenway insisted not to control on deep within but also to find order in the country or to find the precursor sites. He and his friends, except one who betrayed them earlier making them doing things more difficult. Haytham always felt that the order will be fallen by the hands of only one Assassin.

His son.

His second, Charles Lee was his target.

The Assassins, doing everything to gain the freedom of the Colonies. Breaking every chain of slavery or in trouble, which caused the revolution began in a full swing and on fire. People die and people getting killed in the battlefield but for the patriotism they will do everything. Since the purge of the Assassins, only few left, one who is hunting every Templar he find even his own father and his second, whom he believe who killed his mother. Ratohnhake:ton or in formalities, Connor Kenway. Son of the Templar Grandmaster.

His year has been stressful, killing every Templar from left to right but he feels right when he encounter blood by blood of every bastards who killed his mother or even linked to it. It was December 24th as the winter grew even colder but people stayed in their homes with the content warmth in their faces with their families. Does he care?

He was surprised that the place or city he always been was quiet. Really quiet, not even a hint of sound but the wind howling through his ear or the dogs howling through the moon or laughter of children in every houses. The assassin sat on the bench for a while, not admiring the cold of the winter and the wind blew through his cheek, giving him shivers through his body.

The assassin looked around suspicious or something to take shelter of, the Davenport manor was miles away from the place he is been. But nothing, only people walking with carriages, quietly and in hurry like they are not missing something important. He then turned to his right and left, then out the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow. Connor doesn't believe in phantoms or in ghosts, but the shadow was gesturing him to follow.

With hesitation, he rose from his seat and walked slowly and carefully through the place where the suspicious human was gesturing him. To his surprise, the phantom walked way, Connor's instincts sharpened as he followed the mysterious person through the dark alley where he found him sitting through another bench.

Connor froze for a moment to check the surroundings, his vision turned on and the man was in red, meaning he is an enemy. He flex his blades to expect another blood bath but the person seemed to stay and waiting for him to sit beside him. He then turned around, expecting a trap or anything that can endanger his life. Sensing there is nothing, he quietly and swiftly walked and sat beside the mysterious man.

The man was wearing a hat that usually cover his face except his nose and mouth, he had a masculine moustache and beard. Connor slouched and quietly asked the man. "What do you want?"

"Boy, just a few minutes." The man replied with a hint of British. So he is an Englishman.

Connor grew impatient, but kept it inside as he turned to the man. The man gave him a side glare but with no emotion that glued through his face. "What's it then? Are you a Templar?"

"It took you long enough to figure out don't you?" The man smiled in the darkness as he removed his hat revealing his whole face to the assassin. Connor fist clenched as his eyes grew wide, then flexed his hand to erupt the blade inside.

Charles Lee, sitting beside him, in the bench in the evening.

Charles, only looked at the assassin, with a stern glare but doesn't do a thing, even grabbing his sword to defend himself or even call his comrades for help. Nothing, he sat down watching Connor's emotion to go wild. "Just keep it boy."

Connor calmed a bit because curiosity calls him, what does his greatest rival wanted with him? "Why are you here?" He exclaimed angrily but Charles stayed calm even in the darkness clouded through the evening.

"Something, you've might remember." Charles spoke gently, with fear in his voice. "I have something to talk to."

"What?"

The Templar quietly paused in his seat and rested his head on his hand, supporting it. "You wreaked havoc in the country."

"It is you who destroyed my life." Connor called to him accusingly pointing his hand through the Templar soldier. The Templar huffed and sighed. Wind blew even colder through the two people with different ideologies.

"Look up the sky, assassin." The assassin obeyed looking at the star glimmering through the skies. The assassin raised his eyebrows, flooded with the questions with his mind, amongst the Templar soldier. Charles kept staring at the skies.

"You know, Connor. You reminded me of myself." Charles told him, calling him in his name.

"I am never like you." Connor growled with anger but stayed in his seat.

"You do?" Charles asked but then grinned in a memory. "Boy, when I was your age, I was like you. Slaughtering everyone to claim what I dreamed of and that is to be a Templar Grandmaster. So I killed everyone who opposes us and Master Kenway, until he anointed me to be his second."

"How does that connects for being the same with you, when I was your age?" The assassin asked not in curiosity but in rude manner.

"Ambition." The Templar soldier replied. "I see it upon our first encounter. Ambition, dreams that worth dying for and vision. You possessed those gifts to pursue them even at the dangerous times. I was at risk leaving the Templar order for having what I've least expected, but it's my ambition and dream that kept me going. Just like you."

"I have ambition? You're right, I have ambition, and it would be slitting your throat with my blade, and freeing the Colonies from your control." Connor spoke coldly, giving him a cold stare at his rival and enemy. "That's what make us different."

"But with the same determination."

Connor had to admit, his rival was right. He never admit this until now, he was the edge of killing him or him killing the Templar. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Charles smiled and began to dig around his pocket, then revealed a small wooden carved object, with a beads that were connected by a thread. The carved wood was shaped into an assassin symbol, Connor couldn't help but to ask. "What is that?"

"Carved and whittled by the Grand Master, then instructed me to deliver it to you. It took guts, especially with you slitting or impaling me with your blade." Charles spoke as he opened his palm and let Connor see the wooden art. Connor stared at the object, but received it when Charles placed it in his hands. It was from his father, and Charles Lee has no idea that his Leader was his father.

"Thanks, but that doesn't save you from killing you." Connor thanked, but remained his stony faced character. But clenched the wooden object like it was precious enough to be as a gift. "Does this goes with the occasion?"

"Oh, boy, still with no emotion." Charles smirked. "Merry Christmas Connor. Remember this day you made peace with your rival, for a day. But the day after that or the day after, you can straight up kill us all, but we did what is right."

"I will never forget that, Charles Lee." Connor hesitantly smiled, then offered his hand. Charles raised his eyebrows but took his hand and gave him a handshake. "Merry what again?"

"Christmas. Today is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is the day of happiness and peace. Hope that you find those two tomorrow. Now I shall go." Charles spoke as Connor stared at the wooden figure, it was perfectly carved and was perfectly worked. His father must have took his time for this gift. He looked up and saw Charles is gone from his seat and was nowhere to be found. He then gazed the direction where he's been and quietly spoke. "Iotshennónnia ki Ratonniá:ne Charles Lee."

He left the bench then ran towards the upper building, Achilles could hear this weird but good story days from now.

 **There you have it. I'm not sure if this works but since I never played AC3, but I tried my best to make this likable in AC3. You can correct, criticize or review.**

 **Merry Christmas.**


End file.
